


mancante

by soldiergame



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 11:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldiergame/pseuds/soldiergame
Summary: absent; lacking; incomplete;





	mancante

**Author's Note:**

> happy lionheart day, this fic was collecting dust in my wip folder and i finally decided to post it
> 
> i wrote this long before monochrome came out so there are many inconsistencies... i tried to fix them but it's 3am and i'm running on 1.5 hours of sleep and the power of izuleo so i might have missed a few
> 
> i'm assuming this takes place before tsukasa joins so... (the timeline is confusing and i suffer)
> 
> if you haven't already... please... [read lionheart](http://maluridae.dreamwidth.org/38797.html) (you won't regret it)
> 
> thank you [jay](https://twitter.com/silentoath) and [shoe](https://twitter.com/maluridae) for the translations and my life (and my entire non-izuleo tl who had to put up with my screaming and crying over lionheart, monochrome, the knights previews and... izuleo in general)

In his first year, Tsukinaga Leo takes Yumenosaki by storm, a hurricane of ink strokes on the classroom walls marking his presence, bright and vivid like the sun itself. His blood is racing, his thoughts filled with nothing but music and aliens as he makes his mark in the school - quite literally. 

Leo blazes through the corridors like wildfire, filling the walls with colourful scribbles and the halls with his laughter (much to the teachers’ annoyance) as he hums the tune of his next song. Illegible scribbles are spun into intricate melodies, and further refined into what idols would call 'weapons'.  

_A king_ , they crowned him, but there is only so much a king alone can do.  

He meets a fellow first-year then, a beautiful boy with teal-coloured eyes, who complained loudly whenever his scribbles made their way onto his desk. (How beautiful his eyes were, but how sad and empty they seemed to be! he muses as a second line of words joins the first.) 

Sena Izumi. 

To Leo, he was a like a raw diamond, rough and unpolished, but brimming with undiscovered potential.

(If he is a 'King', then would Sena be his 'Knight'?)

He rushed up to him with his usual enthusiasm, “Wahahaha! ☆ Your face sure is beautiful, but your singing is way out of tune! Your voice is pretty though, so I'm sure you'll get better with some training! I love it!”

The other had flushed, before yelling something incoherent and flinging a chair at him, but he didn’t throw Leo out of the classroom, so he must be doing _something_ right. 

“Join me,” he whispers, as if spreading a scandalous piece of gossip, the green in his eyes bright and flickering wildly, unpredictably, very much like an untamed flame, “Between us, we’ll have an arsenal.” 

 

* * *

  

Sena, Leo soon decides, eats far too little. 

"My 'Knight' must be strong! How do you expect to fight the enemy like this?" and with that, he promptly shoves a slice of apple into the other's mouth.  

Sena stares at him, as if he's about to yell  _"What the fuck, Leo-kun"_ , but it is hard to speak (let alone shout) when there is a piece of fruit in your mouth, so he grudgingly accepts the food instead, drawing a pleased smile from him. 

(It pleases him even more when Sena joins him for lunch the next day, even if he did attempt to force feed him vegetables.)

 

* * *

 

Leo finds his second knight a year later, when he and Sena are recruiting new members for their unit. Chess, it was called, an individualistic unit which had seen many members come and go.

Yumenosaki is brutal. It shatters as many dreams as it nurtures. One by one, Chess’ members drop out, unable to cope with the high standards the school has set for them, their brilliance dulled by pressure and expectations that they cannot meet, until only Leo and Izumi are left. 

It is Sena who suggests it, a brief mention in one of their many conversations, an offhanded comment about one of his co-workers, but Leo remembers it nonetheless. 

Narukami Arashi is a breath of fresh air, nothing like the previous members of Chess, now named Othello, but that is what draws Leo to him. He is more than what meets the eye, casually redirecting questions he doesn’t want to answer, and that only serves to intrigue Leo more.  

Naru, he decides, would make a fine addition to his knights. 

 

* * *

 

His third knight arrives rather unexpectedly, in the form of a strange-looking lump huddled in front of the piano in his usual practice room. 

"I'm going to sleep, draw on me and I'll bite you, even if it's Ou-sama," he threatens, flashing his fangs briefly as he shifts to lie down next to Leo, curling into a comfortable heap next to the stacks of used manuscript paper (which would have been strewn around the room, had it not been for Sena). 

'Rittsu' is another interesting fellow, he thinks, absently running his fingers through inky locks as he adds the finishing touches to his new song.  

(After all, what better way to herald their entrance of his Knights than a song worthy of their name?) 

 

* * *

 

“A genius,” he was called, “A king,” and he would laugh it off, too caught up in his world of aliens and music to be bothered with the hierarchy of idols. 

He would regret it later, as his weapons were struck down one by one, and he realises too late that he had played right into the hands of the tyrant that ruled the school. ( _'You considered him a friend'_ , his mind whispers traitorously to him, _'It is your weakness that led to this, Ou-sama.'_ )

 

* * *

 

He leaves.  

It started off with skipping a few classes, causing his already spotty attendance to reach an alarmingly low rate. The school sends him letters, letters which he piles up in a corner of his room, unopened. 

(And then, he stops showing up altogether, leaving the faded ink marks on on the wall as the only proof of his existence.)

 

* * *

  

The walls of his room are covered with scribbles — large, messy ink strokes a stark contrast against the whitewashed surfaces.  

Not good enough. Cross out. Repeat. 

Still not good enough. Cross out. Repeat. 

It’s an endless cycle, and soon, there are sheets and sheets of manuscript paper strewn haphazardly around the room, filled with his messy scrawl, until one day—

He can’t feel his music anymore. 

It happens slowly. His songs begin to feel hollow, the melody ending awkwardly, and the lyrics won’t come out.  

There are no lyrics in his head, no melody resounding through his very being, no inspiration that drives him to pen scribble after scribble on the walls. 

There is nothing but the boos of the crowd and the mockery of his peers. 

(He is nothing without his music, and it hurts to realise that the bitter words of his opponents — once former Chess members, were right after all.)

It is jarring, like a hole that he can’t seem to fill. 

He thinks of his songs — his weapons, lying abandoned ever since his defeat at the hands of Tenshouin. He thinks of his Knights, falling one by one before his very eyes, and being completely unable to help them. 

(“What good is a king if he can’t even protect his subjects?” Tenshouin had left him with those parting words as he was left to pick up the pieces of a shattered dream.)

Leo wanders. He walks aimlessly from street to street, occasionally taking refuge in alleys. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for — he never does, but he needs to move, to do something, anything, to fill the gaping void in his chest. 

Tucked away in the folds of his jacket, is a song. A song (a requiem) dedicated to his knights (the knights he could not save).

One day, he’ll return to them, picking up the weapons that have rusted over, collecting layers after layers of dust as they lie abandoned in front of an empty throne. 

(Today isn't that day.)

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sometimes, in his darkest moments, he thinks of grey hair and teal-coloured eyes. 

Sena. 

His Sena, who he had left behind without a word, with no warning or even a goodbye. Another regret, another reason why he should not return. 

 

* * *

 

One day, Izumi visits him. He hears his conversation with his sister, hears the footsteps as they draw closer to his room. (He is so close, so, so close. His Sena, his beautiful, beautiful Sena.)

"... at least eat something," he says, with eyes far too tired (far too _distant_ ) to be those of a third-year high school student. 

Leo does not respond. What could he say, to a knight (a _friend_ ) he had forsaken?

Sena sighs. He turns away, as if to leave, but suddenly whirls around, sticking a foot between the ajar door in order to thrust an arm through the gap. 

It takes Leo by surprise — how un Sena-like! and before he knows it, a piece of bread is shoved into his mouth without warning, and he is only able to get out a muffled noise of protest before he is silenced him with a rather watery glare. 

“Eat, you idiot Ou-sama," Ah, is Sena crying? "Eat, and come back to us soon." 

 "I'm sorry," he says quietly (brokenly), opening the door, "I'm sorry, Sena." 

He suddenly finds himself with an armful of Izumi, who clings to him like he would disappear any moment. 

.

.

.

.

.

. 

"Come back to _me,_ Ou-sama." 


End file.
